The Reverend slowly opened his eyes. He lay on a small bed within his private chambers, yet something was off. The lights were dormant, and he heard no sound emanating from the rest of the ship. He rose from the bed and quickly put his clothes on. He was about to open the door when he paused.
"Guards?" He called into the emptiness of the once bustling ship. He waited there for countless moments before cautiously opening the door. He found the two dwarves stationed at his door lying unconscious. Although he soon realized that they were not unconscious. The Reverend said a pray and he was engulfed in a bubble of light. Both for protection and for visibility in the dark depths of the ship. He finally made his way to the command room after passing dozens of dead crewmen and soldiers alike.
"Report?" Just like the door of his cabin. Silence spoke volumes. "Damnit!" He roared at he pushed the device off the table to the floor. "I am going to get to the bottom of this." He then approached a strange painting on the wall of the room. He removed it revealing a small red button. He presses the button lighting up the ship with flashing red lights and roaring sirens. A small rack of rifles sat next to the door, he picked on up and made sure it was loaded. "I may not be a soldier, but I at least know how to shoot."
He made his way through the halls of the ship now flooded with red light, until that is he made it to the door of the laboratory. Somehow he knew this was the doing of the woman who had visited him some nights ago. He remembered her interest in the infected men that were picked up in Stormwind and figured this would be the best place to look. He slowly opened the door and entered.
The scientists lay sprawled across the room, lifeless like everyone else aboard the ship. Though, strangely, the prisoner that had been pumped full of arcane energy sat chained to the wall in full health. The Reverend approached but kept his distance from the man.
"Are you awake?" The Reverend questioned. After more moments of silence, it seemed the Reverend was getting used to that, he approached assuming the prisoner was asleep or perhaps looked better dead than he did alive. The Reverend reached out his hand nudged the prisoner. He fell forward dead just like the rest. Though there was something different about this one. A mark on his body that the Reverend had not seen before.
"What is this. I have never seen anything like this before in my studies. It must be truly ancient." The Reverend cautiously touched the mark. He was relieved when he felt nothing but the skin of the man. Or did he . . .
"What is happening to . . ." He felt dizzy and his breathing grew more rapid. He could feel the drain of his mana. He collapsed on the floor, unconscious. A mark now formed on his body.
Woldemar Steyer, The Blind Seer